Fire Island
by MirrorKisses
Summary: I hate smokers. I smoke. I hate boys. I pick one up. I hate parents. But I still have 2. I hate losers who slack off. I’ve become one. I hate stalkers. But I have one.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Fire Island**

**By: All for You Remy**

**Summary:** I hate smokers. I smoke. I hate boys. I pick one up. I hate parents. But I still have 2. I hate losers who slack off. I've become one. I hate stalkers. But I have one.

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I hate people who smoke; I know that for a fact. And to be honest, around the age of 17 I promised myself never to smoke a single cigarette. It was a killer, you know. Smothers your lungs and a whole bunch of other horrible stuff. And I wasn't about to die from some heart attack, I mean, you know how shameful it would be for your mother to receive a call stating that your son died from smoking one too many cigarettes due to amounts of unrequited stress and mental angst? That the fact that since they never experienced the pure joy of having their father push them on the swing has taken a superior toll on their emotional physic. The very fact that if maybe the father had spent a little more time in said child's life they're probably be around right now?

But yeah, I hate smokers.

So as I light up what seems to be my third one for today, flicking the lighter out after fishing around in my pocket for a good 5 minutes and inhale the deadly smoke I have to pause, letting it stay trapped there and wonder, how many more packs am I going to consume in my life? By the slight jiggle in my pocket as I walk I'd say about at least another 3 good lights in the pack in my back pocket but from there on out, it's a mystery.

I was only here for one day so far, crashing in a cheep hotel off to the side of New York and already I was smoking myself crazy. I mean, I knew I was a wreck. Anyone could've told me that. I mean, my hair was disheveled and dirty, a stark honey colored blonde, my eyes were red with dark bags under them from the late nights that I worked shifts at the diner between school. My clothes? All I had was my uniform from school, a white shirt, striped red and black tie and black pants. That's all I had to wear.

The sky was a brooding dark purple as I shuffled through the hoards of people who I will probably never see again and try and make it across the street without getting ran over.

I would be so lucky.

That was the thing about New York, you either get killed, molested or ran over.

My friend, Shari, told me about how she had met this guy once, who she dated who later turned out to be a convicted molester who was on the run for days. Shari was a vivid character all her own, but I had my own issues to deal with.

I needed cash. I was desperate for cash. But I wasn't resulting towards anything drastic.

I remember last week I was reading this story about this whole twisted family and how they all came together to overcome many issues. Like this one kid was an artist who was secretly in love with his best friend. And then his best friend's kid was abusive to his best friend who happened to be a suicidal prostitute. And all this other crap and the author just pissed me off with her on again off again humor and cheep jokes. Real life is nothing like that; there are no interesting plot twits, no main characters, and no blank spots to fill in.

Life is the bad picture that you take when it's raining. Or the extra exposure that the camera expels. No, I'm not bitter, but my doctor may say other wise. All I know is that I needed to get to my dorm room, pack my shit up, and get out of there before nine or they were going to kick me out.

It all began when I had a little misunderstanding with one of the deans. But I'm not going to delve into that, mainly because my splitting temples and sore throat are already groaning, and I haven't even started yet.

Hitching my jacket, a faded blue one, over my shoulders I finally make it to the dorm and in record time too, just as it started to rain. I kicked open the door and made my way down the never ending hall of all these Betty and Tom students until I got to my dorm room. I flicked on the light, tossed my books into a small duffle bag and swiped my roommate's credit card off his desk before turning around and getting the hell out of there.

I had no where to go really, it's quite pitiful that I got kicked out of college, not because my work was bad, but because of my supposedly unruly conduct. They could all bite me, and I told them that after the minor altercation. Maybe that's why they kicked me out.

Or maybe it was because I slept with the dean's daughter….

Maybe.

Chewing on the end of my cigarette, still firmly in place, I got the hell on out of there and slammed the doors behind me, never to see this school again.

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I'm driving down Times Square now, watching all the blinding lights and flashy signs of stardom and fame and love and luxury and all I want to do right now is spit. Spit on every single one of those idiots who believed this shit, that they really could make it somewhere, that buy some miracle, they'd be making a difference. Like these shitty gutters and homeless shelters don't have enough of those can do losers already.

I flick my cigarette out the window and smile a little, because I know that this is practically the end of my life right here.

My friend, Shari, remember her? She gave me the keys to this car right here, this tiny horrible compact automobile that is now holding me captive. She told me that she didn't need it, ever since she converted to Christianity things have been put into a lighter perspective for her and everything is clear.

Last week she tried to be a monk.

I think that I'll drive out of state, maybe to Mexico or something, pick up a hot Latino or start a band and travel around the world. I'm 22 years old, damnit; I should be able to do as I please.

Maybe I'll go to Paris; I heard it's beautiful there.

I'd just even die, so I could see Paris.

But hey, you never know, I have the rest of my life to do so.

I can make fun of myself, you know. Oh and who is the main character here? And things will get interesting.


	2. Paris

**Wow, people actually like this story so far. I know there's a lot of speculation over who the character is, and what gender it is, and what the hell is going on with the story, but you know me…well, some of these reviewers are new, so they may not know my style, but I always have a twist. It's just the way my writing is. So let's get onto the reviews and then delve into my newest creation.**

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**xcrazibabii69x:** Thanks, I'm glad that my job is good! That makes me happy. Marco or Emma? Good guess, you'll have to stick around to find out.

**MascaraTearsnMoonlitEyes**: MMmmmm….Craig? Good guess also…Marco? Dylan? Ashley? Are you just guessing out of the air, lol. You'll see!

**icantstopthinkingofyou:** (adds confused sign to back) yes…yes…we all are.

**SkittlesStar25:** Well…I got a omg, which is always awesome, and a great, which is also cool, Spinner? Dylan? I'm updating right now, so be happy…oh and you know I always dye the characters hair some color or another.

**Sarkney101:** Paige? Not Marco and Dylan cause they're gay…right. Okay, good guess. Wild guesses are better than no guesses at all.

**roxylover330:** I'm glad you read the context and found out that supposedly it's not a girl. While I am a big Shipper of Slash…lol (SOS.) I normally don't write femslash…mainly because I dunno how. Straight guy? Sean? Spinner? Interesting….

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**Chapter 2: Paris**

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A lot of people think I'm a girl.

Which is pretty odd…

A lot of people think I'm a boy…

Which is pretty annoying.

I mean, I've been hit on by so many guys and girls while driving down this city streets It's giving me a headache.

_"Hey honey, looking for a good time?"_

_"Hey baby, what's a pretty girl like you doing lookin' so sad?"_

_"Are you hurt? I mean, it must not have been a pretty fall falling out of heaven like that"_

_"If you're the matrix, then I'm the one"_

It gets pretty sickening, and annoying, and old so normally I become whatever they want me to be.

Boy

Girl

It doesn't matter, in New York, if you're pretty, you can go so many places.

And I know I am pretty, dashing, handsome…feminine.

And I know I'm brooding, and smart and sarcastic and rude.

And I know that somehow I'll end up making the biggest mistake of my life today, because every other day, I feel that I will. And today, oh yeah, today I know I will. So now here I am, the dark city streets are surrounding me like a horrible tide of mist as I park into one of the small alley ways and wait a few minutes, catching my breath.

I think that cigarettes may actually be bad for you.

So I take out another one from my back pocket, my hands shaking jerkily because I have no self control, and stick it in between my lips. I turn around as the smoke swirls from my lips and into the air to see a kid in a corner, pushed up against the wall, a blade right next to his neck and a man with a mask cursing him out.

"Give me the fucking bag" He snapped, holding the blade closer, pressing it into his skin slightly.

The boy shivered," N—No. My—my friend gave me that before…she-" He stopped short as his eyes widened and the blade went clear across his neck.

His head slid down to the side as the robber went off with the bag, which held the supposed thing that they boy was fighting so hard for and down the block. I took another smoke again, twirling the white stick in between my fingers as he cried out for help. His voice becoming lower and lower….

Until it was a gurgle.

And then a gasp.

I turned around and went back into the car, I needed a new pack of cigarettes.

And no, that wasn't the thing that was supposedly the biggest mistake of my life. Because I've seen worse things. I think if I'm lucky maybe I can score a free drink off what ever boy, girl, gay, lesbian person that decided to hit on me tonight.

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"Kid, shut up" I said as I covered his mouth with my hand," Stop crying, take a deep breath and tell me what the hell is the matter"

We were inside my car now, this boy, all fucked up looking, bawling like…like a fucking baby in the back seat of my car. How did this happen? Oh god, my headache is back again. It's a long story. All I know is that one minute I was inside the bar, some person named Penny…or some guy named Benny, hitting on me, slurring words into my ears and tipping their drink into the air, and then the next minute there's this…kid, inside the car with me.

"Will you shut the hell up!" I snapped and he suddenly quiets his whimpers and moans until it's just a little sniffle," Thank you" I sigh out and run a hand through my matted hair, I need to wash this shit. " Okay, now what's the problem?"

"My—my dad—" The boy stuttered out, crying again.

Oh god, another person who stutters.

I was about to ask him what about his father when someone banged on my window. I turned around just as the boy emitted a scream, which was so annoyingly high pitched and loud. A guy, in like…his forties can banging on the window, " Open the fucking door, boy" The guy snapped.

I guess that was his dad.

He yanked on the door violently until the back lock, which was very loose, popped off. He yanked the kid out of the car and automatically he hit the floor, shaking. " Da-" The boy stopped off when his father kicked him in the ribs.

Okay, now I know you're going to think I was really hypocritical since I didn't save that guy in the back alley but now I suddenly had this urge to save this kid here, but I don't really care, because I don't have to explain my actions…to myself. So I hopped out the car as the father continued the assult on his son. " I can-" He kicked him in his arm," Believe that when I came home, that you'd-" He kicked his other arm," be there with some dirty-" He jabbed him in the chest, his foot landing right above his belly button. And I only observed this due to the fact that his shirt had risen up from all the violent kicks. "Fucking—" He kicked him straight in the head.

I flinched and grabbed his wrist," Who the fuck are you?" He snapped, wheeling around to punch me as well, but though I may be girly I know how to kick some ass. As his fist came up towards my jaw I dropped down and swooped my leg from under his leg and knocked him down to the floor, and then punched him in the side. As he rolled over in pain I know I had two of three choices.

1.I could go back to my car and drive to find some other bar.  
2.I could pick up the kid now and risk getting tackled from behind 3.finish beating the shit out of this guy and then rescue the kid.

I bent down, punched him hard enough to knock him out and then ran over to the boy who was bleeding badly, as I rolled him over I could see that he was bleeding badly, obviously, due to the fact that he wasn't moving. I pulled him up into a sitting position and slapped his face to get him to come to," Come…on, kid…wake up, I don't want you bleeding in my car" I stopped as his eyes opened up slowly, though he was barely auidble and whispered," Thank you"

I looked over at his dad," Where do you live?"

"No, you can't take me there…." He stuttered, trying to get up but failing miserably.

"Okay…" I trailed off, " Where to then?"

"Anywhere…with you, but here" He stammered.

Now I was stuck with this kid.

I knew I was going to make the biggest mistake of my life today.

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**Confused? Annoyed? Do you like it?**


	3. Empy Cigarettes

**My computer crashed and lost all my files, so I can't update and reply to your reievew this time.**

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**Chapter 3: Empty Cigarettes**

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"Here" I murmured, throwing him a towel," Press that against your arm while I find out what the hell" I said, hitting the shitty radio inside this tacky car," What the weather is"

We were inside the car for an hour now, driving only god knows where, but he won't let go of me, I swear, I tried yelling at him, verbal abuse, physical abuse ( I got pissed off when he wouldn't let go of my arm so I punched him, accidentally, I apologized afterwards and brought him some ice cream, which he later spilled on my back seat after claiming about getting dizzy and then passing out) There is something wrong with this kid, he won't talk to me now, well he never did to begin with, no name, no destination, just urging me to drive.

"Is that better?" I asked as he looked at me blankly, he had some how slid his skinny little body into the front seat of my car and was staring me down like death it's self. If his eyes weren't so damn interesting, a multicolored blue with green and golden specks, I would've told him to stop. I remember when I had first came to college in New York I thought it was because I wanted to escape my whole past life at Degrassi. I wanted to just forget about everything and now here this kid is, killing me because he reminds me of myself, and staring the hell out of me.

"Kid, what's your name?" I asked, shifting gears and making a u-turn till we were on some sort of highway. I didn't have anywhere to go and neither did he, so it didn't really matter, our destination that is.

"Paris" He murmured.

"What?"

"Paris"

"Look kid, if you're going to lie at least make the name good. I swear, that's the gayest name I ever heard, I mean, really now-" I paused, ruffling around in my pocket for another cigarette with one hand and keeping one on the wheel," I'm being nice-"

"You punched me!" He stated, hurt.

"You were asking for it, and besides, I got you fucking ice cream, what else do you want?"

He snorted," What am I, three?"

"You act like it." I said as he reached over and grabbed the pack from my pocket without me finding it. He took out one cigarette and then threw the rest out the window.

"What the hell is your problem?" I snapped, glancing in the rear view mirror as the box helplessly floated away in the wind. Well, damnit! I really wanted a smoke.

"Smoking is bad for you" He said timidly as he handed me the one that he took out the box. I snatched it out his hands and sighed, because I think that my lighter was busted when I feel him reach over into my lap and pull out a lighter of his own. It takes a few times before the stick ignites and he sits back down and lowers his eyes to the floor.

"Why do you have a lighter?" I asked, the stick firmly between my lips as my eyes refocused back onto the road, the moonlight shining deceptively in the sky, and now that I think about it, the sky looks like on big cigarette, the moon the lighter, all bright and yellow, and the midnight sky black and cloudy with smoky like gray clouds…

Now I'm really pissed that I don't have that box.

"My mom died from lung cancer" He shrugged," She kept her lighter in her bra, she thought my dad would take it away from her, so she put it there. And after she died she left it in her will that she wanted me to have it. So I kept it"

This time I snorted," You're dad was afraid to go in her bra"

"Dad has issues" He said, looking down at the floor. For the next few minutes we were both silent, him glancing out of the window, paranoia forever written on his face and me glancing at him occasionally, trying to figure out what's going through that little mind of his. It's sort of hard to tell, since his body is so rigid and drawn back, as if one simple blow would crumble him to pieces.

Well…heh, maybe not pieces.

But as my mind was churning away with stupid jokes he caught me glancing at him and cocked his head to the side," What's your name?"

I blinked at him.

What is my name?

Should I tell him my real name?

When was the last time I used my real name?

Back at Degrassi I supposed.

But…I didn't want to lie to him, for whatever stupid reason.

So instead I just said," Don't worry about it. As soon as we stop at the next block you are getting out of my car"

"I can't" He shrugged plainly.

"Really?"

"Yep"

"And why is that?"

"Cause"

"Because what?"

"My dad will be looking for me" He said dully.

"And this is my problem? Kid, we've been driving around for hours, there's no way he would find yo-"

He pointed out the window.

I followed it and glanced to see we were back in the alley and over in the corner his father was still unconscious.

Well, how the fuck did that happen?

"How the fuck did that happen?" I asked, well, snapped.

"You're the one who was driving" He said, looking at his dad and then back at me," Hey, are you a boy or a girl?"

I looked at him, as if insulted," Get the fuck out my car, kid!"

"No!"

"I'm searious!" I warned.

"No!"

"I will punch you again!"

"No you won't!"

"What?"

"No, you won't"

"And why is that?"

"Because you felt bad last time you did it, that's why you got me ice cream" He smiled after he said it," I am not getting out of this car"

"Yes you are"

"You're going to have to kick me out"

"Fine!" I said as I unlocked the door to my side and got out. I was about to kick that kid's ass up and down the block when I heard the car rev up, the ignition hum and the lights come on.

I know he is not stealing my car.

I know he is not stealin-

He's stealing my car!

He backed out of the alley and waved at me through the window before driving off and hitting a lamp post.

I can't believe he just stole my car! And damnit, I have my last cigarette in there!


	4. Something To Remeber

**Thanks everyone for the feedback, I hope you enjoy this one as well!**

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**Chapter 4: Something To Remember**

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The thing I loved about my car is the fact that it was the only place where I let my guard down. It was my safe place, the only place I felt safe.

Granted there were your occasional car crashes and the amount of other sorted accidents but besides that, they were my place…to be me.

It was a clean get away, turn the keys in the ignition and go. No one cares once you're over that red horizon line and the blue and gray skies fade into one twisted multicolored sunset. Because in reality, you can escape all the agonies and headaches that were fucking caused by mere chances of catching some other asshole on a bad day and all of this could've been avoided if you had just moved 5 seconds faster and gotten out of that room.

And left, and drove away. Because no one cared, and no one worried.

I looked over at Paris' dad, he's been out cold for an hour now, and that's the time I've been standing here, wondering if the kid was actually going to drive my car back and the time that was wasted on me trying to be the good person that I really am and tried to help a poor kid out.

And I hated that because I always get let down.

Why should I pour myself out onto some shitty pavement in New York City for another abused kid? How many movies have you seen that? How many public service announcements urge you to do that? How many special TV shows have you seen with that character normally breaking down in the end and giving into the ideal version of suburban life?

Because not everybody was like that.

I needed something to drink.

I needed that last cigarette in the pack.

I needed a smoke.

But thanks to that little kid, I have no cigarettes.

My wallet is inside the car now that I realize it.

And I look a mess now, so I won't be getting any free drinks tonight.

So I looked around, deciding what to do now.

And then I did what any self respecting person would do.

I started walking

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You know, I think my issues started when I was younger, around the summer time, when I was little and I was rotting away inside my shitty house, thinking of what my life would be like. Because I know what I wanted, and I know what I needed, I just needed to get the good grades and get the hell out of there.

See, this was before my dad became an annoyance and my mom became a pain.

Before my grandfather became an asshole and before my grandmother became the biggest person that I'd ever go against.

Because we had different views on a lot of different things.

Blah blah blah.

It's annoying to think back on it.

All I know was that by the age of 10 I was smart enough to harbor feelings of anger, by 11 I was obsessed with revenge, by 12 I was a cynical smart ass with enough wit to get me anywhere in the world and by 13 I was a slowed down depressed teen with issues and a pen. And a paintbrush. Or a scalpel, it was whatever I wanted to be in the palm of my hands.

You know, I could've been the president.

Or Donald Trump.

Or even Miss America

Or one of those Iron men.

And now here I am, stuck on the side of some road because some punk kid stole my damn car.

So as I swagger and walk and fumble along the lines, thinking that wonderful question of " Oh where did I go wrong?" over and over again I see these bright lights and the car window roll down I stop and look up wearily." Paris?"

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"Can I at least have the red ones?" He whispered timidly as I throw him the bag of skittles.

Apparently, the kid drove down to a 7-11 to get some skittles and a V-8 splash, which he drunk on the way back. He supposedly felt bad of what he did, he felt like he betrayed me, and decided to come back and pick me up.

God, this kid…

"Why are you with me kid? Don't you know better to hang around strangers? I could like…abuse you or something. Go away, before I hurt you again" I said with anger, glaring him down and trying to look disheveled and deranged.

He stared at me," You won't hurt me"

"I won't?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.

He shook his head.

I curled my hand into a fist and then punched him, right in the arm, same spot his dad had hit him too. He visibly flinched and looked down at the arm before looking at me and then at the bag between his legs. His skinny fingers reached down and pulled out a red and blue skittle, murmuring to himself how he likes the way they taste.

My eyes refocus back to the road, the silver and red lights practically blinding me as I feel myself getting lazy, letting my defense down as I always do when I get inside my car. I almost wanted to tell him sorry for hitting him and buying him another ice cream cone, or another pact of skittles and pick out all the red and blue ones for him, anything to please him, but then I see him looking down at the floor, rubbing his arm gentle and whispering thing sunder his breath to himself.

Thee kid's a wreck.

And I know this because of his appearance, and for whatever odd reason that this is happening, that he's following me around and won't let go of me, I know one things for sure.

This will be one of the longest months of my life.

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_review...please?_


	5. All The Pretty Faces

Chapter 5 : All The Pretty Faces

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My mom used to snap at me, sudden bursts of anger and agony being spilled off her lips and floated into my ears. By the age of 12 I got over these sudden urges of yelling back at her and just nodded and slunk away, I had no right to try and say something against her, I mean, she was my mother.

And even though I momentary lapse back into the things that she would snap at me about, the most stupid things, mind you, I know it was for a good cause. Now when I was little, an angry little kid, it pissed me off. But now…yeah now it made me laugh because I have gone through so many worse things.

I would go crazy in the summer, I had so many ideas, I just didn't have anyway to display the talent.

I wasn't exactly one for movement, I mean, if I wanted to, and when I wanted to, I could be the fastest, quickest person you'd ever meet, but now, I was just used to taking things slow. That's just the way I am. So during the time I was trapped in that hellhole I would come up with the most darkest, stupidest, funniest jokes I could think of and replay them over and over in my mind. Something to keep myself at bay until school started, you know, where I was free to be the caffeine addicted glue sniffing smart talking kid that I was.

And I used to write on everything.

Oh and I was a whore for music.

Rock music exactly, if you didn't like rock music, I didn't like you.

People would worry about me when they heard of the different subjects that I was interested in. Holy hell, I was interested in un-Godly and un-worldly things. You see, back then, I had a fetish for things that were off the caliber, like diseases and people would be pissed when I asked them a question.

So mainly, basically, in a nut shell, I was a closet case paranoid person who floated around through the teen years,

Paris poked me," Can I go into the back seat?"

"What the hell for kid?" I asked, still trying to get him to want to get out my car and run far far away from me.

"I'm tired, I want to sleep" He shrugged," And your seat belt keeps cutting into my shoulder blade. You may want to check that it, I think it has something sticking out of it"

Yeah, I know. It was a spring.

"No" I said, looking back on the road.

"Why?"

"Because I said so kid"

"Why?"

"Look," I snapped, looking around at him, the sudden motion made him jump and I knew that I had at least some what gotten to him. He tired his best to cover it up but I knew, I knew and I smiled.

That made him look down to the floor real quick. I didn't know why he was so hell bent on hiding his eyes from me, but whatever, the faster the kid got out of my car the faster…well the faster I could finish ruining my life, or whatever It was that I was doing to it. I pulled the car to a stop, I drove off onto the express lane for a quick second, and unlocked the door.

"Go on then" I said, nodding. " Go get in the back"

He looked at me cautiously." You won't drive away?"

"Noooo…" I stifled the sarcasm in my voice," Why would I?"

'Because you don't seem to like me" He said shortly, getting out. As soon as the door closed I hit the peddle and sped off, I could hear him yelling at me from behind, and surprisingly enough, he was right on my back. I couldn't believe that this kid was actually trying to run to catch up with me.

I slowed the car down just to tease him before speeding up again," Please…" He called from out side, I rolled the window down so I could hear him better," Stop, how can you leave me alone in the dark like this? I have no where to go…no family, how can you sleep at night knowing that you did this to a poor kid like me? Mister….Miss…please!" He stopped. Finally slowing down and slipped to the floor, already crying.

I peeked at him through my rear view mirror.

_"Please dad…please, don't go! Just stay…like, 5 more minute. How can you just leave me like this…"_

See, there's those memories kicking into gear again.

There goes me slowing down

I finally pull to a stop and roll down one window and lock the doors. I don't want him climbing in. He runs up to it, catching his breath and stares at me," You stopped"

"No s-" I stopped myself," Yes. I have a question. Why are you following me? Demanding that I keep you as my captive?"

"Because I trust you"

"Kid, I beat up your dad, there's nothing special like that. I'm pretty sure lots of people have" I shrugged," I'm not a good person to be hanging around, I'm not some ideal role model , and my life is going no where"

"I don't want one" He sighed," And you were the first person to actually stand up for me…instead of against me. I just want to stay with you until I sort some things out" He looked at me, his head cocked to the side and his eyes lowered to the floor.

"Please…" He stopped then tried again," Please…"

There was so much desperation in his voice it sickened me. I rolled up the window and through the glass I could already see his eyes watering up as he turned to walk away.

I leaned over to the back seat and unlocked the door." Get in" I called out.

He looked up at me, his smile wide." Really?"

"Yeah, but I have a few rules" I said as he slid into the car cheerfully, still holding his arm though.

"I'll follow them, I promise"

"Rule 1, stop smiling, it's annoying"


	6. Click Drag Heart

**La...lal...updating eh? I dunno what the hell is wrong with me, because I actually enjoyed writing this story, but damnit, Artistic Revisions has made me it's bitch and I am forever slavved and chained to writing depressing turns and twists in there. However! I am back! With this story! EH? lol, but seariously, here's a twist, and I forgot about the whole gender confusion thing. It's a boy/girl. HAHAHA . I fooled you. I dunno who the hell this is yet. Or do I! **

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**Chapter 6: Click Drag Heart**

" Why are you looking at me?" I asked, a little amused.

We had been inside the car for an hour now, him staring at me, me catching him staring at me and then resuming looking at the road, it was a cycle. Every 9 minutes he'd do the same thing all over again. It was sort of cute, in an odd way, but I didn't really have this kid figured out quite yet…

But there was something about him…I don't know, but something about him…

He shrugged," No reason…" He stopped, looked to the floor and then back at me….and then to the floor again," It's nothing"

"You know kid" I said gently, taking one hand off the wheel and tilting his head up so we could look at each other eye to eye. " The floor isn't telling you anything, is it?"

He shook his head no, my hand still under his chin.

"Good, I don't want anybody crazy in my car" I sighed, letting go and out of the corner of my eye I could almost see him look to the floor again, as if rejected or something. There was something about him that needed attention, I don't know what it was, but I know that he needed whatever attention that may be, and he needed it badly.

Did he think I was the person to give it to him?

Was I the person to give it to him?

I shook the thoughts out my head when I saw his own head loll to the side slightly and then land gently on my shoulder. I stared at the blonde hair and then back at the road, and then back again. Oh god, now he had me doing it too. His head then rolled a little more until it was all the way on my shoulder and I sighed, because I haven't been in the company of someone else (without being forced) in a long time.

So I smiled, a quick smile, since I don't like smiling that much and didn't move him.

* * *

It was around 2 in the am when I finally pulled over to the side of the road and just decided fuck it, and parked it near the bushes. I pulled the leaver back on the chair, making the chair slowly and loudly creak as it moved backwards until it was all the way down and made case as a wonderful façade as a bed. I looked around, the sun was no where near coming out and then down at the kid, who, believe it or not, still hadn't gotten off my shoulder.

Once the bed finally hit the bottom of the chair in the back his head rolled down to my neck and then his hand ended up right at my belly button. He moved over a bit, coughing a pinch before settling in again and smiling a little in his sleep.

I felt awkward, cuddling isn't really my forte, especially not with abused teenagers.

So I threw my coat over him and then closed my eyes, trying to figure out just where the hell we were going

* * *

The sun is an annoying fucking thing and once those damn rays hit my eyes they automatically snapped open.

He was still here

Damn.

He was still asleep.

Damn.

I tried to move slowly, not to wake him up but his eyes fluttered open slowly, so I just moved back down and pretended to just wake up as well." You stayed" He smiled, rubbing his eyes slowly and wiping the drool from his mouth. The hand, however, on my bellybutton, staid.

"Where are we?" He asked, slowly moving his hand away.

I looked at him," You drooled on my jacket" I said erectly.

He lowered his eyes, fishing around in his own jacket," I felt bad for what I did…" He mumbled as he pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter.

I raised my eyebrows, trying not to smile as I took them out his hands and automatically lit up one. I took a small inhale of it and held it, my body relaxing almost automatically.

He smiled at me but quickly turned his head," I ah…I have lots of money, if you need it, I mean…" He stopped.

"Money?" I asked, looking at him," Kid, don't tease me"

"I told you" He mumbled, running a hand through his hair," My name is Paris"

"I know your lying" I rolled my eyes," Who the hell names their kid Paris? And a boy no less"

"I happen to like the name" He said, getting defensive.

"Fine, fine" I sighed," Paris" I said holding up quotation marks with my fingers," What money?"

"My dad…does stuff….not stuff you think…but stuff…" He trailed off, reaching into the back," The real reason I took the car was because I needed to go to the bank and empty out my account before he tried to get my money" He pulled a book bag into his arms and dropped it in his lap.

I put the cigarette from my lips for a second," Why would your dad try and take over your account? Why didn't you lock it? And you emptied the whole thing?"

He nodded sadly," Yeah…my dad did some things…and I was there when it happened….and he doesn't want anyone to find out…and then he caught me…doing something…" He paused, swallowing," He wants me dead"

"I wouldn't say dead…" I trailed off, eyeing the money in the bag.

"You saw how he attacked me! Sooner or later he's going to get me"

"Paris, please, calm down, how much is in the bag?"

"365 thousand" He whispered.

"What?" I asked," I didn't hear you, I think that I heard 365 thousand dollars"  
"I do"

"How…"

"I have money you know, I'm not some poor abused kid…." He trailed off as I looked away, trying not to laugh. If I knew this kid was a walking bank I would've treated him so much better…

"Where…"

"Let's not go into details" Paris said, dropping the bag upside down and I gasped at how much money fell out of it.

He smiled," Where are we going?"

I pried my eyes away from the bag and looked at him," Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere…far far far from here…with you"

"Of course" I sighed, setting up the engine and pulling my seat back up," With me…let's stop at a store first and wrap up that arm of yours…."

"Okay" He nodded, soundly putting his seat belt on and looking out the window.

I smiled, singing over and over again in my mind, Money Money Money Mooonnneeeeyyy


End file.
